


With the Dead

by aprill99



Series: Overheard Conversations [1]
Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: F/M, Fix-It, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Overheard Conversations, Papa Lance, Sleep Deprivation, olicity - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-25
Updated: 2016-03-25
Packaged: 2018-05-29 02:05:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,567
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6354457
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aprill99/pseuds/aprill99
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Quentin Lance has known Oliver Queen for a very long time, and while he might not have always liked the kid he could never quite quit looking out for him either. He's been watching Oliver since he was small. He's seen him be brave, be a brother, be a multitasker, be stubborn, and be unbelievably stupid. However, the only times Quentin Lance has ever seen Oliver Queen be in love is through a series of overheard conversations.</p>
            </blockquote>





	With the Dead

When Captain Lance started to reconfirm that Oliver Queen was the Arrow, he was visiting his daughter's grave.

He entered the graveyard and made his way towards the corner that housed Sara's plot. One hand was jammed in his pocket and the other held a bouquet of pink tulips. It was after his last shift at the station and the sun had begun to set.

Lance stopped dead when he heard a familiar voice. "Hey Sara," came Oliver's quiet voice. Lance frowned and moved until he could see the source. It just didn't make sense for Queen to be there. Hell, no one had even told the kid Sara was dead!

But eyes and ears didn't lie.

Queen was sitting on the ground cross legged in front of Sara's head stone. He had placed a bouquet of bright yellow and orange sunflowers against the stone and sat back. "Hope you like the flowers," Oliver said. "They're not exactly typical for a graveyard, but you and me were never exactly good at typical were we?"

He sat back and Lance debated making his presence known, but the detective in him made him stay put, watching quietly.

"Felicity picked the color," he continued. "Coming to see you has been about the only decision I've made lately that she liked." Queen picked a blade of grass off the ground and rolled it between his thumb and forefinger. He glanced around and sighed. "I have too many people to visit here," he murmured. "My mother, my father, Tommy... But you were the one I needed to talk to."

It was completely silent for a moment before Queen spoke again. "God I wish you were here." His voice was so raw that it struck Lance like a smack to the face. Oliver Queen was supposed to be cocky and just a bit untouchable. He wasn't supposed to be able to be upset or chipped and broken. "Right now everything is just..." He swallowed and started again. "It's feels like when the gambit sank," he said finally. "Like everything is crashing, and you have to move but can't tell which direction is which. And lately I feel like the water just keeps rushing in and I can't move, and I can't fight, and I can't stop it."

He leaned his head down to his hands and rubbed at his temples. "Diggle and Lyla are married now," he said suddenly. "And the baby... she's a little girl and she's beautiful. She's sweet and undamaged and tiny and so completely innocent." There was another pause and then, "they named her Sara."

Lance balked. He didn't even know that Queen's bodyguard had known his daughter, let alone well enough to name his own daughter in her honor.

"I don't know what to do about Thea anymore," Oliver continued. "She knows about me now but we've both changed so much... So many things between us are just- broken. I'm not sure we'll ever be able to fix everything."

Queen let out a huff of air. "She tried to kill Merlyn," his voice was tinged with disbelief. "She tried to hand him over to the League and I stopped her." Lance could see him shake his head and bight his lip. "I went to Nanda Parabat and I bartered for Malcolm Merlyn."

His words didn't make sense to Lance. Malcolm Merlyn was dead. Killed by the Arrow during the Undertaking.

"Roy is good for her though," Oliver went on. "He's a good kid. A good person."

Lance's frown deepened he hadn't known that Sara had known Roy Harper but he supposed it made sense. The two of them had been the ones dating the Queen siblings for a while. It was a fairly straight forward connection.

Oliver took a deep breath and lifted his head, hands falling to the ground. "I haven't heard anything from your mom," he informed. "But I've had the Allen kid looking out for her in Central City." Oliver chuckled darkly. "He was always late and then he got hit by lightning and suddenly nothing's fast enough for him. I've been trying to show him that what we do means darkness and choices but..." He shrugged. "I can't force him to understand. Especially when understanding feels like this." He stopped for a moment. "You remember what being poisoned feels like?" he asked. "Like something inside you is burning and twisting and you want to crawl out of your own skin just to get away from the feeling but you're locked down and can't move? That's about where I'm at right now."

Lance watched as his fingers twitched in the grass, tapping sporadically. "Your dad doesn't like me," Oliver said to the stone. Lance quirked a small smile at that. "He doesn't have to. In fact, he's more likely to survive if he doesn't. Laurel though... She's trying to be like you and I. Can't. Stop. Her."

At this point, Lance could practically see Oliver's jaw becoming more and more rigid. Lance almost worried that the Kid's teeth would snap. His shoulders were back and set. He looked like a man getting ready to fight a war. But what war could he be fighting? Oliver kept talking. "She's still trying to save everyone, fix everything." Lance almost sighs himself at that. No matter how he felt about Queen, the man new his daughter's personality well. "She hasn't learned yet that dedicating your life to fixing things means letting little pieces of yourself break away." Oliver's voice was so hollow and matter of fact that it sounded like he was voicing a death sentence.

"I feel like if you were here you could tell her that," Queen went on. "Now Nyssa is training her because I can't do it. It's one thing to be broken, it's something else to be the one to cause the break, and God knows I've broken enough things." Oliver came up to a crouch. "Nyssa doesn't hate me like she should," he said quietly. "She doesn't like me but she doesn't hate me either. On some level she actually seems to understand that we all cared about you." Queen went silent. "She never believed that I could ever have killed you." h shook his head once. "She never knew the girl you were before me either though." Oliver shook his head again. "I once told your father that I had killed you. That was the most honest thing I said in that entire conversation. By asking you on the Gambit I killed the girl you should have been."

Queen stood up then, hands in his pockets. "Ra's wants me to take his place," he said. "Diggle doesn't really understand but the soldier in him knows why I should consider it. Roy, Laurel, and Thea don't know yet. Felicity thinks I'm insane for even thinking about it. She actually called the League Evil Incorporated."

Against the entire tone of the conversation, Queen actually seemed to be smiling a bit then. "She still thinks I have a soul. That I'm a good man" his smile turned sad and self-mocking. "She doesn't know everything I've done." He heaved another sigh. "She's with Palmer, and for now he's a good guy. But he's too much like me, and too new at this to know it yet."

Lance immediately filed away the name. Palmer had been suspicious with his sudden attitude changes regarding the vigilante. Knowing Queen wasn't surprising, or Felicity considering they worked together.

Oliver Queen took in one more deep breath and scrubbed a tired hand over his face. "Keep Tommy out of trouble up there alright?" He pressed a kiss against his palm and then laid it gently against Sara's grave stone. "Sleep peacefully Tahir Al Safir."

He turned and made his way out of the graveyard through a side entrance. Lance moved forward and stood in the place Oliver had just occupied. He was silent for a moment before letting out a long breath. "Oh my baby girl," he sighed. "What were you and Queen involved with?"

When Lance was safely back in the precinct, he typed Oliver's parting words in to the translation program. It was Arabic for Canary and then Lance almost knew. Sara had been called the canary and only a handful of people (that Lance hadn't thought Oliver was included in) had known that.

So Lance knew two things for certain. The first was that Oliver was involved with much more than he had thought. The second, was that somehow Queen had known Sara was dead before Quentin had.

He finally confirmed his theory when the Arrow left the precinct late one night after picking up Felicity Smoak. The blonde computer genius had been kidnapped and held hostage until the Arrow showed up. He had disappeared from the scene only to reappear in the almost empty precinct.

The Arrow had thanked Lance, and then vanished in to the shadows, taking Miss Smoak with him. A security camera had showed them going out of a side door instead of through the roof so Lance had followed them. He got close enough to hear what sounded like an argument and quickly stopped.

"This only ends two ways Felicity," the Arrow was saying. Even through the voice modulator clipped to his jacket which normally did such a good job of flattening the emotion in the man's voice, Lance could hear pain and frustration in the words. "Either I say yes or everyone dies! And I can not let that happen."

"Maybe there's another option-" Felicity tried.

The Arrow quickly cut her off. "I know there is," he said fiercely. "I can't lead anything if I'm dead but I was really hoping we could make that plan B. Now it looks like that might be the only option."

Felicity shook her head and took a step forward. "I refuse to accept that."

"And I refuse to watch you die," the Arrow returned, turning to face her completely. "Everyone who has died because of the League is on me. Every single life. I will not let anybody else I care about die for me."

"But you just said it," Felicity said in a quiet, pleading voice. "Because of the League. Not because of you."

"Because I can't make a choice," the Arrow growled. "it should be simple Felicity. It should be so easy. If I lead the League they do what I tell them to. I could tell them to stop killing and they would do it without a second thought. But I just can't..." he trailed off and dropped his head back against the alley wall.

Lance watched as the Arrow slid down the wall and sat on top of a low dumpster. He had never seen the Arrow look so defeated and tired. It was so... human.

Felicity walked forward slowly and reached out one, tentative hand. Lance watched with growing disbelief as her fingers slipped past the edge of the green material that hid the Arrow's face. The blonde hacker cupped the vigilante's cheek with the palm of her hand. "Hey," she said quietly. "When was the last time you slept?"

The Arrow didn't remove her hand. By contrast, he seemed to tip his head further in to her touch, letting her take some of his weight. He let out a sigh that came through the modulator as nothing more than a rush of static. "When was Tuesday?"

"Tuesday?" Felicity asked incredulously. Lance privately agreed. Tuesday had not been recent. "Oliver," she said softly and detective Lance froze. "It's Sunday night."

The Arrow. No. Lance Corrected himself. Oliver. Oliver Queen. Oliver Queen was the Arrow.

Oliver raised his hand and turned off the modulator. "Guess that means it's been about 120 hours." The bell chimed in the town bell tower, signaling that it was eleven o'clock at night. "Huh," Oliver said. "Guess that makes it 121."

"You need sleep," Felicity told him, starting to take a step back.

"No," Oliver said, gripping her free hand and tucking it against his chest. "I don't. I just need... two minutes. Two minutes where none of this is my responsibility. Where I don't have to think. Just- two minutes."

Lance saw Felicity shrug but make no attempt to take another step backwards. The hand on Oliver's cheek moved up and slowly pushed the hood back and away from his face. The mask was the next thing to go, pulled off his head and dropped in to the pocket of her bright pink dress. Then Oliver Queen sat in front of her, his face clearly visible as he blinked in the faint mist. "So take them," she said quietly.

"Will you-" Queen started, then broke off and looked down. He tipped his head up again and swallowed. A small, almost pained smile crossed his face. "Will you wait with me?" Felicity was silent a moment. "Please?" Oliver continued. His voice was pleading. "It's two minutes. One hundred and twenty seconds. Just... please?"

Felicity took a step forward so she was standing between Oliver's knees. Her hand moved back up to Oliver's face and she nodded. "Okay."

Oliver looked up at her with tired eyes. A moment later he let them shut. His head tipped sideways and into her hand. One of his gloved hands kept Felicity's palm over his heart while the other moved up and closed hesitantly around her hip. Felicity moved her free hand lightly over his jaw and around to the back of his neck, stroking over spots of tension. Bit by bit, Lance watched Oliver's head sag forwards until it rested against her shoulder.

Lance turned away, and quietly made his way back in to the precinct. Watching that moment had felt just plain wrong. Low, and underhanded.

Because the man in that alley was not a man he could arrest. That man was a fighter who had been doing the best he could for a very long time. A man on the brink of letting everything around him break away into fractured edges.

More than that, this was a kid that Lance had watched grow up. A little boy with a mop of sandy hair who had chased Laurel across the monkey bars at the playground and immediately dropped to the ground and caught her when she had gotten scared and started to cry. He was the middle school student who had stolen a picture Sara had drawn off of the bulletin board in the hallway when her teacher wouldn't let her take it home. And he was the gangly teenager who had preferred staying at his house with it's rules, and curfews, and chores because it actually felt like a home. And he was the man who had let Lance hate him because it was what Sara would have wanted. Besides, the fact that he was the vigilante meant that he was also the man who had saved Lance and the lives of everyone he cared about more than once.

The problem Lance had originally foreseen with knowing the Arrow's identity had come true. Lance had found out his identity, and that had made him a person. A person with a family, with people he cared about, and who cared about him. It was impossible to arrest that man for trying to save lives.

If Lance had, it would have felt like the biggest lie in the world.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you all so much for taking a look at this story! Sometimes I'll just have something pop in to my head that needs to be written down when it comes to Arrow. Besides I love Lance and he needs to have a bigger part in the story of the show so I'm making it happen. Olicity is also just so damn incredible and awesome and the show writers who choose to mess with them make me angry! So this whole think just kinda emerged. Leave suggestions/kudos etc. This is my first time writing on AO3 so be a little gentle! Love you all! xoxoxo


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